Traditions
by iluh-vtheclique
Summary: In 2012, Massie Block died of murder. In 2199, Anastasia Forrester found old records of her. Before she knows it, she is forced to carry on a tradition. R&R!
1. Introduction

**ANASTASIA**

**YEAR: 2199**

I scanned through old records of the kids. Kids from way back in the 2010s, who had all died in terrible ways. One picture caught my eye. It was a girl. She looked about my age, thirteen. Her hair was brown, and her eyes were amber. It was eery, the photo was in perfect condition. I shivered. I flipped the picture around to read the profile on the back. It read:

NAME: Massie Block

BORN: May 12, 1999

DIED: May 12, 2012

CAUSE OF DEATH: Murder

I looked at it again. Where it said DIED: May 12, 2012, someone had crossed it off in dark red, and in it's place, had written: NEVER.

I tried to scream, but the air around me got so thick, I couldn't breathe. I just choked when I opened my mouth. My shaky hand suddenly dropped the picture, face down. And a voice said, a perfect voice...

"Finally, someone has found me."


	2. Happy Birthday, Massie

**MASSIE**

**YEAR: 2012**

I was shaking in my Jimmy Choo stilettos. My inner alpha said to stop and look brave, but then again, I knew what was coming. Every time a student at OCD got her picture taken this week, she would die. It was not a written rule or anything, but throughout the day someone would get called up to the office, and would never come back out.

"Claire Lyons."

Claire stood up, a million times more shaky than I. Her blonde hair was in delicate waves.

It was too bad she would die now.

"No!" I yelled. "Claire! Don't go, you'll die!" Heads turned, but they all shook their heads in grief. They knew it, too. They all did.

"I-I have to, Massie."

"But! It's... it's my b-b-birthday! I don't want more people to die!" I grabbed her wrist.

"Massie, let go!" She yanked me, and left me on the tiled floor of the cafeteria.

She ran, sobbing. "M-Massie! I'm sorry! Happy birthday!"

Usually, when somebody says "happy birthday," you feel happy. But at that moment, they were the coldest, cruelest words in the English language. I watched her figure disappear behind the door.

I turned to the rest of the Pretty Committee. Dylan and Kristen both had tears down their faces.

"First Alicia, now Claire." Dylan had a depressed look on her face. It was unusual, normally Dylan was fun, and would break the silences with a burp or something. I'll admit, it was disgusting, but at least it was _some_thing. Right now, I felt nothing.

I was empty. My body felt hollow, as if I had been carved like a jack-o-lantern. And the thing was, I wasn't even dead... yet.

The whole school of OCD was silent. I wished that somebody would stop it. From the quietness of the school, it was like no one was breathing.

By now, half of the students probably weren't.

"Happy birthday, Massie," whispered a tiny voice. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't real, but I knew it was... I had heard it five years ago.

I ignored it. Everything became mute again, but...

The most awful, terrible scream I had ever heard pierced my diamond-studded ears and, as it seemed, everyone else's. _! _It was engraved in my heart now, never to leave my soul, because I knew that voice anywhere:

It was Claire.

"Massie Block," the overhead announced. I know it was vain, but I felt shocked that nobody was screaming super loud, or even crying. But then I noticed that Dylan and Kristen had fainted. And to make it worse, it made me happy.

I wobbled on my tall shoes. My lavender ruffly Moschino dress swayed. I suddenly became very hot. I removed my black blazer and walked very slowly to the office.

I tried to calm myself. _You'll join Alicia and Claire, and you will never feel pain. It'll be okay. It'll be okay, it'll be okay..._

I looked up from the floor. I was at the door of the office. I turned the knob.

"Ah, Massie." I walked to wherever the voice was coming from. I saw a flash, obviously a person, quickly lock the door. I swallowed.

"W-w..." I started, but had no clue what to say. I looked around. The windows were cold, and black paper was taped over them. The lights were dimmed, and a single candle lit the room. I felt like screaming when I saw Principal Burns cuffed to the walls, either knocked out or dead. But the instant I opened my mouth, blood flowed from my mouth.

_Blood?_ I ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at them. Red.

I poked the back of my neck. I almost puked when I could shove my finger in about in inch farther than I should have been able to. I collapsed, but not dead.

When I woke up, I was in the principal's chair. My entire body was coated in blood now.

"Happy birthday, Massie," the voice whispered again.

And a blade ran straight through my heart.


	3. Popular

**ANASTASIA**

**YEAR: 2199**

I never cared much about appearance. It seemed a little pointless, to look pretty. I understood dressing up for weddings, but nothing else.

I ran home. Rain poured, but I didn't care. I needed to get away from the voice. I didn't want to "find" anybody. I had just seen school records. Innocent as that.

And although I didn't care for appearance, I found myself searching "Fashion in the 2010s" on my brand-new, 3-D tablet.

It looked exactly the same as these days. I was shocked, because usually it was different in other time periods. But there it was, miniskirts, ruffled blouses, everything.

I was looking up fashion because the picture of Massie Block made her look like she was probably very fashionable. And I wanted to know everything about her that I could. So, typically, the next thing I looked up was "Massie Block." I clicked on a blog. It had many lists, labeled "Current State of the Union." It's last update was over 100 years ago. That sent chills down my spine. After many results, such as school profiles for OCD (_Creepy, _I thought when I saw that. _She went to my school?!_), hater blogs, fan club blogs (I almost puked. Who was this girl?!), and old e-mails, I gave up. There was nothing current. _Why am I even searching for her?! I bet she's possessing me or something. Yup. Definitely. Maybe this is what she meant by "I found her."_

"Anastasia!" Mom called. "Time for dinner!" I walked to the kitchen, greeted by the warm scent of chili. I sat at my usual spot at the marble dining table.

"So, how was work?" I asked.

"Oh, same old. How was school?"

I clenched my teeth. "School was fine. Tammie got glasses. They're purple." It wasn't a lie.

"And how was studying after school? Find anything cool?"

"Yup. Did you know that fashion in the 2010s is the same as current day?" I left out the whole creepy-stalker-ghost part.

"Oh, that's interesting," Mom said, clearly uninterested.

"Yeah," I said. The rest of dinner was quiet and slightly awkward.

I walked up to my room again. I grabbed my tablet.

_Meet me again tomorrow, AF. ~MB_

I rolled my eyes. Tammie must have e-mailed me. But when I checked, I wasn't on e-mail. And how would Tammie even know about Massie Block ghost?

"It's a real message from the ghost?" I actually said it out loud.

The air got all thick around me, just like before.

"Yes."

I just rolled my eyes. "Go away."

"No, you must follow the tradition!" I heard the voice from the right side of me. I turned around, and...

There she was. A slightly hovering, slightly translucent version of Massie from the pictures.

"What tradition?"

"The alpha tradition. You must be the most popular girl in school!"

I laughed really hard. I couldn't help it, the laughter just came out. "Wait? You're saying that all of this is for... popularity?!"

I expected Massie to laugh along, or for her to go away and for Eliza Henderson, the most popular girl at OCD, to jump out with a camera and a hologram projector and yell "YOU GOT PRANKED!" But instead, Massie shushed me and said: "This is serious. I'm afraid if you don't follow the tradition, you'll get very bad luck for... something over you're typical 7 years, let's just say."

I stopped laughing now. Not because I believed this, but because I was a very cautious girl and never took chances. "So what, I have to buy cool clothes from Prada and Amely's and just say stuff with a bazillion abbreviations?"

"Okay, what is Amely's?"

"It's a 'new' designer shop, made back in the 2110's," I explained, and Massie nodded.

"Well, then yes, pretty much what you said, but more. Meet me at the Westchester Mall at 7:00 tomorrow."

And with that, she disappeared

**A/N: Sorry, short chapter. I just have so many ideas for this story! And sorry, I'm a sucky updater. BTW, will any of you check out my Skye's 3rd Grade Diary story about Skye Hamilton, and then my crossover Massie B, Meet Junie B, where Massie meets Junie B. Jones (but they're both 13)? PLEASE REVIEW ON BOTH! THANKS!**


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